


Oneshots of the Dream Smp

by TheHarbingers



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Dream Team - Fandom, Minecraft - Fandom, Sleepy Boys Inc., Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:15:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHarbingers/pseuds/TheHarbingers
Summary: I don't want to clog up my profile so I'm posting stuff here. I write a lot about the same shit over and over again, soooo
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

Phil awoke at the early hours of the morning. The sun was just barely coming up from over the horizon. 

The winged man sits up in bed, gazing out his window. The sky is painted shades of yellow and red.

Phil waits for the sound of little feet running down the hall; The shushes and the door creaking open ever so slowly.

But alas, that doesn't come. The man lives alone now.

The unattended potato fields remind him of that. Sighing, Phil gets out of bed. 

He remembers when Techno and Wilbur were young- Back then, he had so much on his plate.

He'd been spending too much time away from home. When Phil was there, he trained Techno to be the provider.

Of course, that meant he'd ignore his other two children. Phil remembers how Wilbur had practiced late into the night strumming a guitar. All to impress his father.

Tommy didn't even notice. The poor boy didn't realize fathers were supposed to be around.

The winged man had to admit, though, he never expected them to leave one day.

Phil had been pulling up weeds with Techno, when Wilbur stormed out of the house to him.

"Dad, I'm leaving." He remembers the young adult saying, voice laced with poison.

"Okay." Was all he had replied at the time.

Tommy hadn't taken the news so well, and insisted on going with his elder brother. 

That day, Phil and Techno waved them off, teary eyed and worried smiled.

_"Phil." Techno woke him up one morning._

_"Yes..?" The middle aged man blinked his eyes open._

_"I need to go to Wilbur and Tommy."_

_Phil doesn't think he'd ever forget the panic in his son's monotone voice. He had helped the boar pack his bags, and sent him off with a horse._

Now, he was alone.

Phil had received no word from his children. Meals of silence went by, the dining table feeling oh so empty.

The winged man ran his fingers along the walls as he made his way down the hallway. Phil stopped in front of a wooden door.

Opening it, he coughed from all the dust that flew up.

Phil approached a small, wooden desk in the corner. The chair was slightly pushed back, as if someone had gotten up in a hurry.

His approach stopped as he saw a letter on Techno's desk.

“Help.” Phil read outloud. That was it; Only the single word.

Before he knew it, Phil had mounted a horse and was riding off into the horizon. He hadn't even packed his bags.

It took him 3 days to reach his destination. Phil rode through many different biomes. Taiga, birch forests, and beaches, to name a few. 

Finally, civilization came into sight.

Phil led his horse to a fence, tying it loosely and quickly. Then, he sprinted off to where he heard noise.

"Wilbur, where are you?" He murmured with worry as he scanned a crowd.

A door in the side of a hill gave him his answer.

Phil opened the door cautiously, then closed it behind him as he walked inside. 

He wandered through a stone hallway until he came across a horrifying sight.

"What are you doing?" 

Phil shuddered when Wilbur turned around. The man's eyes were crazed, but they softened slightly when he looked at him.

"Phil." Was all Wilbur said.

Phil studied the room, seeing messy writing covering the wall. He couldn't help but think back to when Wilbur was just a toddler.

_"Wil, what are you doing?" Phil's answer was a giggle._

_"I'm drawing!" The toddler replied to him, then went back to focusing on his masterpiece._

_The man sighed with a fond smile, then lifted Wilbur into his arms._

_"We don't write on the walls, okay?"_

_Wilbur started crying, clutching at him with a guilty look. "I'm sorry." He had wailed._

_Phil remembers melting at the sight. Kissing his son's forehead, he smiled, "It's okay. Nothing to cry about, I'm not mad."_

_Wilbur's mood had improved, and Phil had ended up letting him continue his crayon assault on the walls._

The Wilbur then was a sweet, sensitive child. The man in front of him was no Wilbur.

Wilbur didn't have a far away look in his eyes, and his hands certainly didn't shake. The man in front of him was not his son.

"I find myself coming back here a lot." Wilbur sounded breathless, looking at the walls.

"Step away from the button." Phil warned, taking a step towards him. He didn't know what it did- But he sure wasn't about to find out.

Wilbur snapped his head to him, "This was my creation, Phil." The man took several steps towards his father.

Phil was grabbed by the shoulders. He could only frown as Wilbur's eyes bore into him.

"This was my creation, and that bastard took it. He took it, and _ruined_ it."

Phil gently took Wilbur's hands off, not knowing what his son was talking about. He let him ramble anyway.

"He's here." Wilbur whispered, backing away from him.

"Who is?" Phil glanced over his shoulder, concern etching its way onto his face.

"That fucking ram. He's here. Glaring at me!" Wilbur collapsed to his knees, holding his head.

"Wilbur!" Phil tried to reach to him.

Wilbur looked up with a sick grin. He was staring somewhere behind Phil.

"You know what, Schlatt?" 

"Who's Schlatt?" Phil whispered, scared to even approach the insane man in front of him.

"I'll wipe that look off your face. _I_ am the founder, not you!" Wilbur screamed, stumbling to his feet.

"Wilbur, calm down-"

"What starts with me, ends with me!" The crazed man screamed, then slammed his fist into the wooden button behind him.

When Phil heard the first explosion, he leapt forward. He took Wilbur into his arms, shielding him with his wings.

_Phil sat in his study, reading a book on ancient totems and potions._

_Thunder boomed outside, then was followed by a scream inside the house._

_Little footsteps came running, and Wilbur burst through the study's door._

_"Dad! The rain's mad at me! It’s exploding!" The boy sobbed._

_Phil set down his book, opening his arms for Wilbur to run into._

_He held the child close to him, smiling, "It's just thunder. It can't hurt you."_

_Wilbur looked up at him with big, watery eyes, "Really?"_

_"Really."_

_That night, Wilbur slept in Phil's bed._

The explosions boomed all around them, and Phil could hear screams in the distance.

"Wil, what have you done?" He whispered, shock written all over his face.

Wilbur once again looked up at him with those big, watery eyes.

"It was never meant to be."

Phil deemed it safe when the explosions stopped to stand up. 

"You've just blown up a country!" Phil shouted, but Wilbur smiled sadly.

There was a hole blown in the side of the room they were in. Phil looked out to see screaming men and women, some people holding unconscious bodies.

His heart stopped when he saw Tommy and Techno down in the chaos.

"Wilbur." Phil's voice was shaky, though he tried to calm it.

Wilbur's eyes were unfocused, staring off into the distance.

"Wilbur!" Phil shouted, jerking the crazed man out of his thoughts.

"Phil, I need you to kill me."

The winged man backed up, voice coming out in a shocked whisper, "What?"

Wilbur got to his feet, stumbling over to Phil. "Kill me."

"You're my son!" Phil's eyes were wet, no matter how hard he tried to keep the tears in.

"If you truly are a good father, you'll do this."

Phil pushed Wilbur away, but the man was unfazed.

"This is the only thing I've ever asked of you." A sword was in the corner of the room, Phil noticed as Wilbur talked.

Wilbur retrieved it, walking back over to his father. He held it up to him, offering it.

Phil's lip quivered, but he took the sword gently. He hugged Wilbur, pulling them both down to the floor.

_"Dad.. I don't want to go to bed." Wilbur whined, "I'm 7 now. A big kid!"_

_Phil chuckled, "Techno's already asleep, so big kids still have bedtimes."_

_Wilbur pouted, about to throw a fit when Phil gestured to Tommy, who was sitting up in bed and watching Wilbur._

_"Tommy's not sleeping until you do." Phil whispered, "he's trying to copy his big brother."_

_Wilbur's eyes sparkled, then he promptly snuggled under the covers. "I'm going to be the best big brother."_

_Phil laughed, tucking Wilbur in._

"Goodnight, Wil."

Phil plunged the sword through Wilbur's chest.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo just being a president. I wrote this at night/very early morning a while back.

It is early morning. Citizens have come back to a scene of mass destruction; Everyone had been evacuated to avoid any casualties.

The crater they had done little to cover up had only grown thrice in size. There is no sign of life- Fires that burned out hours ago have left a scent in the air.

Tubbo stands in front of his people, looking on to the pure destruction of what was once their home. His ears are ringing with the warning he had been told.

"Tomorrow," a blood-thirsty boar had huffed, "There will be no Manburg."

Tubbo's words had caught in his throat. He tried to look brave in front of his friends, but Fundy and Ranboo saw right through him.

In case of TNT, Tubbo had forced the evacuation of everyone who lived in the square. 

That tone haunted him that night.. He had recognized that tone in a certain man's voice once.

"His unfinished symphony." The wind says it back to him.

Tubbo closed his eyes, remembering that day. When L'manburg had first been blown to smithereens.

_Dream stood on the wall calmly, but as Tubbo looked to his comrades, he saw anything but calm._

_They all had different looks on their faces, but Tubbo could boil it all down to pure hatred._

_Dream's back was to the sun, and his words went in one ear and out the other to Tubbo._

_Before Tubbo knew it, he was being grabbed and forced into running. The ground erupted beneath him; Loud explosions ran out all around him. Cornering him, almost._

_God, the smell was horrible. He could smell gunpowder and fire, and something that Tubbo didn't recognize. He assumed it was his friends' exploded flesh._

_He remembers waking in an impromptu medical camp. Bandages wrapped his head, making Tubbo's hair stick out in weird places._

_The president remembers how watery Tommy's voice was as he explained how Tubbo had been hit by a falling piece of wall._

_He remembers how he pulled his best friend into a hug, then breaking the tension by joking. Tubbo had said the walls were eventually going to come back to bite them._

_Tubbo remembers how he wished and prayed to any and every god. He prayed that he'd never feel the ground break under his feet again._

The crowd behind him is jittery, waiting to hear any report or encouragement from their beloved president. Tubbo turns to them with a sad smile.

"The founder's unfinished symphony." A single tear rolls down his cheek, and in the eyes of his friends, they beg him not to say it.

"Forever unfinished." 

As the people weep, the president notices a tune in the air. A guitar.. Tubbo relishes in the soft sound of fingers strumming carefully.

His eyes snap open; A gasp is yanked from his throat.

The wind carries the words of someone far away.

"I heard there was a special place."

The citizens' wailing has stilled, now it's replaced by an uneasy silence. 

"Where men could go and emancipate,"

The voice is soft but strong, each word striking and mending Tubbo's heart. 

The love for a nation doomed from the start rings clearly through his ears.

The one thing that has caused L'Manburg to survive, Tubbo realizes, has been a shared hopeless love.

A single phrase can give hope to a thousand men. A single man can tear down the walls of even the greatest nation.

And what has Tubbo done?

The teenager has done nothing to outdo his predecessors. Nothing to even make a name for himself.

Wilbur inspired confidence and the will to fight, to 5 men. 5 men with no armor or weapons.

When the founder had created this nation, a lowly concept, every soldier was ready to put down their lives.

A united love. Tubbo clutched at his heart, looking out at the rubble.

Schlatt inspired ideas; Inspired more love. Though, that love had forced people to realize the dictator didn't feel it for the nation.

And all Tubbo had done was point out the painful truth.

The country was doomed from the start.

But somehow, as he looked to the bench and fence he and Tommy sat by, Tubbo's heart was filled with overwhelming hope.

Though the fence was tipping over, and the wooden bench missing a leg, it was not over.

As long as someone felt love for their country, Manburg could still see another day.

The president turned from the scene, saying goodbye to his home of so many memories.

"We will rebuild somewhere else." Tubbo declared for all ears to hear.

"L'manburg isn't a place, it is within us all. L'manburg is not gone until our love dies with it!" 

The crowd cheered, consuming their leader into the mass.

Tubbo glanced one final time to the old bench and picket fence.

Maybe one day he'd return; Remember the smile on Tommy's face as they'd talk about their day. Listen to Wilbur's newest song.

But for now, the bench inside his heart was all he needed. Inside his chest, beating with a steady rhythm, he would watch the sunset over the fence. 

Underneath that old tree and on that sturdy cliff, he'd make one more promise to Tommy to never be apart.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was originally gonna be a story, but I lost interest in it.

It's early in the morning when Wilbur wakes up. The sun has yet to rise, but Tommy is awake. 

The teenager is sitting on the stairs, kicking his feet. There is an unreadable expression on his face, so Wilbur assumes Tommy is deep in thought.

He doesn't say anything as he gets out of bed, walking up the stairs and outside. The stuffy ravine is giving him a headache.

Wilbur is aware of the footsteps that follow him outside. He doesn't say anything to Tommy as he plops down on rock.

"Wilbur." Tommy speaks after several minutes.

Usually, Wilbur would've responded with a cheerful, "Yeah, Tommy?"

But Wilbur's voice is devoid of anything but poison. Venom laces his tone, "What?"

"I.. Uh.." Wilbur hears Tommy shift on his feet behind him, "I'm nervous."

"Well, you shouldn't be. We're taking back our country today." Wilbur doesn't spare a glance behind him.

"But.. What if something we didn't plan for happens?"

Wilbur's lips quirk into a smile, waving the worry off, "Everything's going to happen according to plan. You'll see."

Tommy sighs from behind him, before he goes back inside. Wilbur stares up into the sky.

The sun is rising over the trees by now, painting the sky beautiful colors of red and orange.

Wilbur wonders if this is the last time his comrades will see the sky.

~

Jschlatt wobbled before collapsing onto a table behind him. He's holding onto his heart like it's about to jump out of his chest. 

Wilbur watches the life slip out of him with euphoria written all over his face.

"Oh my god, did he have a heart attack?" Comes Tubbo's panicked voice.

Several people are talking at once, but Wilbur tunes them out as he walks over to Schlatt's crumpled body.

He swings his leg back, then kicks it into the ram's side.

Without looking to see anyone's reaction, Wilbur steps out of the van.

~

Everyone is cheering. Tubbo has taken the stage.

"Excuse me, I'll be right back." Wilbur excuses himself from the people around him. They pay him no mind as he slips away from the crowd.

He can't control his footsteps. Wilbur's body walks him into the room of his nightmares once more.

His breathing catches as he looks around at his frantic writing on the walls. The oh-so familiar tune rings throughout his mind like gunshots.

Wilbur runs his hand along the words, "My L'manburg." He can't help the smile that forms.

"My L'manburg." He whispers to himself like a reassurance. 

Wilbur's hands twitch, and his mind is plagued with thoughts of the button. 

The one thing that could ruin this happy end.

He finds himself yearning to press it. And as he makes his first step to it, Wilbur hears a voice that makes him stop dead in his tracks.

"Wil, what are you doing?"

Wilbur spins around to face his father. His expression softens, looking towards the writing on the walls.

His lips press into a fine line, "Nothing."

Phil takes a step toward Wilbur cautiously, as if he were a wounded animal.

"I find myself coming back here a lot." Wilbur's voice is barely above a whisper.

"Come outside with me. Tubbo is about to make his speech." Wilbur looks toward Phil, who has a gentle hand offered out to him.

Wilbur's expression hardened, turning himself away from the man he once called dad.

His shoes clack against the floor as he walks over to the button, no hesitation in his step.

"Wilbur, wait-" 

"Look around you, Phil. This. This is my creation." Wilbur spreads his arms out, grinning like a crazed man. "My symphony, orchestrated carefully to be the perfect nation. Every note aligned; the tune of a paradise."

"Son." Phil tries, but Wilbur only ignores him.

"What is L'manburg, Phil?" 

When Wilbur gets no response, he carries on.

"What is L'manburg if it has no walls? What is L'manburg if it has a new government? What. Is. L'manburg," Wilbur sighs, voice lowering to barely above a murmur, "If it doesn't have me?"

He flinches when a hand is placed on his shoulder.

"Let's forget about this room. I haven't seen you in a while, we need to celebrate your victory with our friends." Phil smiles at him, trying to persuade him into abandoning the button.

If Wilbur had been a little more sane, he would've said yes. He would've walked out of the room with his father, and celebrated the victory with his brothers.

If he was a little more sane, he would be out eating cake with Niki. Laughing with Tommy. Hugging Fundy.

If he was a little more sane, he wouldn't have pressed the button.

"No!" Phil screams, then yanks Wilbur away. He covers him with his body, trying to protect him from the ceiling if it fell.

Wilbur's chest is heaving wildly, and a stupid grin is on his face. He laughs as explosions ring out.

Tears stream down his face as he mutters, "Farewell, my broken paradise."

There is screaming outside, and Wilbur turns his head. A hole had been blown in the wall, allowing him to see pure chaos.

He sees his former comrades struggling to stay afloat in the water. Some are laying on the remaining ground, not moving. Wilbur sees Niki sobbing over an unconscious Fundy.

He's grinning like a madman, and slowly, he breaks away from Phil.

Wilbur's thoughts are jumbled, making him stagger to his feet. "My unfinished symphony." He's breathless.

Taking in a deep breath, Wilbur spreads his arms out, "Forever unfinished!" He shouts.

"Wil.." Phil grabs Wilbur's arm, "What have you done?"

A single tear rolls down his cheek, "If I can't have L'manburg, no one can."

A sword is laying by Wilbur's feet, who notices it when he almost steps on it. He picks it up, and he can hear Phil's breath catch.

"Phil, I need you to kill me." Wilbur's tone leaves no room for argument.

Phil's voice cracks, and it's obvious he is holding back tears, "You're my son."

Wilbur expects Phil to put up more of a fight, so he's surprised when the man actually takes the sword from him.

Wilbur takes one last glance to the chaos happening in what was once L'manburg. One last glance to the nation he's built. 

One last glance to his home.

Eyes are staring up at them. Tommy calls out, but Wilbur's gaze is pulled back to Phil when his father hugs him. 

He's gently pulled down to the floor, and Wilbur hears a "shhh" before there's a brutal pain through his back.

Wilbur thumps against Phil, life flickering away from him, like a candle struggling to stay aflame. The last thing he hears is Phil's sobbing.

"It didn't have to be your broken paradise."

~

"I heard there was a special place," Tommy hears in the wind on a bright summer's day. He frantically looks around for the man singing.

"Where men could go and emancipate," The teenager hears again. He pinpoints the sound to a tree. Carefully and full of caution, Tommy approaches the tree.

His breath is caught in his throat when he sees that familiar guitar. Tommy's feet stops him a few feet away, as he stands in awe at the sight before him.

"The brutality and tyranny of their rulers." Wilbur strums his guitar with delicate movements, back pressed against the old oak.

"Well, this place is real, you needn't fret." Tommy finds himself sitting down to appreciate hearing Wilbur's voice once more.

"With Wilbur, T.. To.." Wilbur's face gets scrunched up. "How does it go again?"

"Wilbur." Tommy's voice cracks, getting to his feet and rushing over to Wilbur. He tackles him in a hug.

He's practically sobbing, when suddenly his blood runs cold.

"I'm sorry," Wilbur gently pushes him off.

"Who are you, again?"


End file.
